


Train Run

by Anonymous



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Bodily Fluids, Consensual Non-Consent, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Gangbang, Heavy BDSM, M/M, Multi, Non-Human Genitalia, Safeword Use, that feel when the sex is brutal but the dom is sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:40:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25214809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: A bunch of demons gangbang Aziraphale, who has little to no complaints about the rough treatment, in part because while the demons don't care whether he's enjoying himself to the fullest or not, Crowley most certainly does.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Demons
Comments: 3
Kudos: 160
Collections: Good Omens Kink Meme Anonymous





	Train Run

When Aziraphale tosses his head to the left where Crowley is holding up a wall as he watches and blinks twelve times, three clusters of four rapid blinks evenly spaced apart, Crowley snaps, and time stops. He goes over to Aziraphale, the angel's heaving chest marking him out as the only other being conscious of time's stoppage, and removes the not-even-remotely little ring gag from his mouth.  
  
"Need something, angel?" he asks.  
  
"Water," Aziraphale croaks. "Water, and- and a little break, please."  
  
"Sure thing," Crowley says, and snaps again. In an instant he has a glass of perfectly cool water in his hand complete with straw. Aziraphale drinks gratefully.  
  
"Now," Crowley says when the glass is empty. "Let's see what we're working with." He snaps again, and the table Aziraphale is tied down to pulls back, slowly, silently, and almost gently.  
  
Almost, because there could be nothing gentle about being pulled off of Suluth's cock. It's a massive thing, tapering from just slightly smaller around than a soda can to a massive double fist sized base. His shaft is studded with little bulbous nubs, arranged in a spiral pattern- maybe as a nod to the duck form he used to fill in the blanks burned out by the Fall. Beneath his shaft swings four heavy bollocks, looking about ready to burst. Aziraphale groans piteously as he's dragged off of it, eyes rolling back in his head.  
  
"You look a picture, angel," Crowley says, because it's true, he does. His wings are out, and bedraggled, ruffled and come-stained. Some feathers have come loose, and the demons have sharped some into quills. They've used them to scratch tally marks into his thighs. They bleed sluggishly, the bright red of his corporation's blood smearing pleasantly with the streaks of come painting him in everything from viscous yellow to watery black. His arse is full, and leaking around the waxy bright pink mating plug Malphas had deposited into him after she'd had her turn. It nearly matches the fucked-raw color of his cunt. "I haven't seen your pussy turn such a pretty color since I last took my belt to it."  
  
Aziraphale, kinky bastard that he is, sighs and tries to spread his legs wider. He can't do it- the bar between his ankles keeps his legs up and exactly as wide apart as they need to be, no more and no less. "Oh, Crowley," he says in what's rapidly become Crowley's favorite tone of voice: love drunk and fucked out and bloody insatiable.  
  
"Just a little refresh?" Crowley asks.  
  
"Please."  
  
So Crowley did a little refresh: he soothed the muscles in Aziraphale's legs that were beginning to cramp from being held in position for so long, reinforced a bit of the inner walls of his cunt that were in danger of tearing. He didn't take away any of the ways in which Aziraphale was so close to being overloaded. Half the fun of this was getting the angel to a place where he could be fucked past the point where pain and pleasure were any different from one another.  
  
The other half of the fun was pulling a fast one over on Hell. They thought that he was fucking over Aziraphale, making the angel think that it was love so he wouldn't Fall, so Crowley could have a source on the inside. Dagon had been very impressed, even if she'd insisted on sending regular embassies up to ensure that Crowley had Aziraphale well in hand, and to remind him that everything he had ultimately could be taken by Hell.  
  
The joke's on them. Aziraphale fucking loves to be taken, Crowley loves to watch his angel enjoy himself, and they both love one another.  
  
"Someone, you're so beautiful like this," Crowley says reverently, leaning his hip against the edge of the table. He touches the side of Aziraphale's face, soothes the irritated skin at the corners of his mouth where the gag had dug in too deeply with a little miracle, and lets his hand drag down along his neck, and down his chest, and catch on the chain connecting the clamps on his nipples. Aziraphale gasps and arches his back as much as he's able while still bound, legs in the air and arms to the table legs below him. "So pretty, when you let go and let yourself be made a mess of."  
  
"Crowley," Aziraphale moans. "Crowley, please."  
  
"Please what, angel?" Crowley asks, genuinely interested in the answer. "What do you need, Aziraphale? You want me to put you back, or-"  
  
"You," Aziraphale manages. "Can you- just touch me, please, a moment."  
  
"Of course, of course," Crowley says. "Are you close?"  
  
Aziraphale nods frantically. Crowley lets the chain slip from his fingers and trails his fingers lower down.  
  
Aziraphale's cunt is hot, from his own arousal and demonic spunk both. His clit, when Crowley rubs his thumb over it, is swollen and nearly pulsating. He dips two fingers inside. There's no resistance, not at this point. The angel is sloppy, loose and dripping.  
  
"You know," Crowley says, as casually as he can manage with the sight of Aziraphale so well fucked and needy before him. "It's not impossible that one or more of these demons could have some interesting tongues they might want to fuck your mouth with. Heaven, some of them might have put taste buds on their pricks too. We're going to have to make sure that your mouth tastes right before we put you back.  
  
Aziraphale _wails_ as he comes, voice breaking and cracking as he carries on. Crowley keeps touching him, fingers fucking up into him as he rubs the angel's clit until Aziraphale has his shaking under control.  
  
When he raises his come-stained hand to the angel's mouth, Aziraphale's tongue darts out to catch the droplets spilling from them.  
  
"That's it," Crowley coos, as Aziraphale sucks his fingers clean. "That's my angel." He pulls his hand back, and Aziraphale lets his fingers go with a contented hum.  
  
"Break time's over?" Crowley asks, and Aziraphale nods, oddly shy for a man who just sucked the come of a half dozen demons from his lover's fingers, and who knew full well that the night wasn't even half over yet.  
  
"Yes," Aziraphale says. "Yes, thank you dearest."  
  
Impulsively, Crowley leans over and kisses his temple, careful not to muss the drying green splatter on his forehead. "I'll be here until the end."  
  
Aziraphale sighs again. "I'm counting on it."  
  
Crowley snaps, and the gag is once more affixed to Aziraphale's mouth, stretching it wide open for the taking. Another snap and the table slowly returns to its original place, Aziraphale groaning and straining weakly against his bonds as he's pushed back onto Suluth's cock. Another snap, and time starts again, Suluth's grunting as he fucked into the angel's well-used cunt at a brutal, furious pace nearly drowning out the excited whispers of the demons gathered around.  
  
Crowley grins, and palms his erections discretely through his trousers. "Well? What are you all standing around for?" he calls out. "He's got other holes, you know."


End file.
